


an overheard confession

by halforcpaladin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halforcpaladin/pseuds/halforcpaladin
Summary: Yasha wakes up to the sound of a storm.





	1. Chapter 1

The Mighty Nein sat around a fire below a red and purple evening sky, the sun’s last breath painting a vibrant sigh across the clouds. Caduceus had set a kettle full of water on a rock beside the flames and waited for the water to boil. The sun set late this time of year, and the team was not too far from calling it a night.

Yasha looked to the horizon and saw a heavy black cloud hanging in the distance. She had been watching it all day as they travelled, and it had not diminished in size. It loomed closer now. She guessed it might pass over them as they slept.

She turned around and looked for a mess of dirty red hair, and when she found it she said, “Caleb?”

“Ja?” He answered, not looking up from the book he read by the glow of a magic-born globule of light that hovered near his head. Frumpkin was curled up next to him and Caleb’s gloved hand was sunk into his fur.

“Could you set up that.. hut thing you do? I think it is going to rain.”

“We were going to sleep under the stars tonight!” A voice came from near the fire, unmistakably Jester’s. “Caduceus said it might be nice.”

Yasha turned back to the fire. “I don’t think the weather is going to comply,” she said, smiling a little at Jester.

Caduceus hummed, taking his kettle off of the fire and pouring some of the boiled water into a cup. “Yasha does seem to be right about these things.” He handed the cup to Jester, who took it carefully and lifted it to her face, the steam curling around her blue skin.

“I will create the hut and then set the alarm,” Caleb said. He stood and snapped his fingers, and his cat _poofed_ and reappeared curled around his shoulders. He walked towards the cart to retrieve the materials he needed for his spells. The sky’s light grew dimmer and his figure seemed to blend with the darkened trees as he walked away.

Yasha knelt next to the fire and took a cup of tea from Caduceus, her hands pleasantly warmed as she pressed her palms against the ceramic mug.

Jester took a sip from her cup and leaned towards the fire. “It’s not like a _storm_ storm right? Like a--” she gestured wildly with her hands, “--type of storm, right, Yasha?”

Yasha laughed into her cup. “No, I think it is just a normal storm.”

Out of the darkness nearby, Beauregard and Fjord rejoined the group, their figures lit by the warm glow of the fire. They had been talking with each other privately; no one had pried, but Yasha assumed it might have something to do with their proximity to Beau’s hometown.

She met Beau’s eyes and saw, for a moment, a flash of pain before Beau quickly looked away, down at the tall grass at her feet. A cold wind blew through their camp, tossing Yasha’s black and white hair in front of her face and rustling the sturdy trees that stood tall around the group. Yasha reached up to pull her hair back and shivered. The fire crackled back to life as the wind passed.

“Beau and I will take first watch tonight,” Fjord said, arms folded across his chest. Beau shoved her hands in her pockets and sat next to Nott at the fire. Nott was tinkering with something mechanical, her focus not leaving the shining object in her lap.

Caduceus raised his hand without taking his gaze away from the flames. “Why don’t Yasha and I take second watch?”

They agreed, and Yasha pulled her knees up towards her chest and rested her chin on her knee. The sky was a deep blue now, and the swollen dark clouds on the horizon loomed closer. A little bird song came from a nearby tree, sounding lonely and forlorn in the day’s last light.

 

* * *

 

Yasha awoke much later to the sound of light rain hitting the slope of the hut. She pulled the heavy blanket that lay across her chest closer to her body, careful not to disturb Jester, who’s head rested on Yasha’s thigh. It was dark; the fire had long gone out, and the air in the hut felt stale and warm from the group’s collective body heat. Nott stirred a little and rolled over, mumbling something indecipherable before her breathing fell steady once again.

Yasha nearly joined her in returning to sleep, lulled by the monotonous _pip-pip-pip_ of the rain, her eyes fighting to stay open, but then she heard hushed voices from outside the hut.

It came from the fuzzy outlines of the two members who had volunteered to take watch: Fjord and Beau. Their figures stood tall and still in the drizzle of rain.

“I liked her since we met her and Molly in that tavern in Trostenwald. I mean, she’s hot as hell.” Beau’s voice, low and gruff.

Yasha shifted, sitting up and wrapping her blanket into the rough shape of a pillow.

Fjord exhaled. “But now it's more than just attraction. Am I wrong, Beau?”

Yasha slipped the blanket underneath Jester’s head as she pulled her legs out from under her and tucked them up against her chest. Perhaps she shouldn’t listen, but it was unavoidable at this point. There was nothing else to hear.

She saw the shape of Beau dig the heel of her foot into the mud and shove her hands into the pockets of her coat. Several seconds of silence passed before she spoke again. “I’m not a patient person,” she said, “but I’d wait for her.”

Fjord placed his hand on Beau’s shoulder. “It might be awhile,” he said.

There was a shock of blinding, pure white light; it lit up the dome and the shapes of her sleeping friends, and just as quickly came a sharp crack of thunder, so loud it seemed to rumble through Yasha’s bones. Yasha inhaled sharply and felt her heart race. The rain began to fall faster and heavier, the _pip-pip-pip_ transitioning dissonantly into white noise.

A couple others woke up, too: Nott, who gasped and shifted closer to Caleb, and Caduceus, who lay still but who’s eyes were now wide open. Beauregard and Fjord re-entered the hut, their clothes dripping and hair slick against their skin.

Yasha met Beau’s direct gaze across the hut. Beau paused halfway to crouching, her mouth slightly open, as if she thought she should say something but nothing came to her throat. Beau’s brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed.  Yasha looked away.

Her heart thudded against her rib cage. “I think it’s time for Caduceus and I to take over the watch,” she said, blinking, unable to turn her gaze away from the ground. She rubbed her cheek and then pressed her face into her palm, as if she could wipe away the heat that had risen to her skin.

Caduceus had sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

Beau finally spoke. “Yasha, I--”

“I need to take a walk.” Yasha got to her feet quickly and left the hut, the familiar warmth falling away suddenly as heavy rain drops hit her skin and stole the sleepy heat she had stored, replacing it with a sharp, skin-numbing cold. The sound of the rain enveloped her senses until she could feel, hear, and think of nothing else but the storm.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t long before her hair and clothes were soaked through, the wet cloth stuck to her skin, and the cold sunk in her bones. The rain was unrelenting and loud, filling her ears with an arrhythmic beat.

Yasha blinked and wrapped her arms around herself. She took a step and another step, uncertain of what she was doing or where she was going, but capable of putting one foot in front of the other with a single-minded focus. The sting of each drop of rain, like pin pricks on her skin, anchored her to her body.

 _Zuala_.

It would be so much easier if Zuala had just lived. It would be easier if Yasha hadn’t run in the first place.

Dimly, she heard Beau calling after her, but she did not stop. She saw the world around her flash, and for half a second the world appeared as it did in the afternoon. Bright, clear, hopeful. Yasha’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at the sky. Again, a rumbling peal of thunder cracked through the air, shaking her core, loosening her resolve. She inhaled and the cold air filled her lungs.

Yasha stopped walking. She turned around.

She had gone to the edge of the clearing they had camped in, and she now saw laid out before her their small encampment in shades of grey: the hut, their cart, some very sad horses, and the solitary figure of Beauregard. Beau was still walking towards her. She had her goggles on and she held her arm out above her head, as if that would help her brace the storm.

“Yasha!” Beau called, shouting against the wind.

“I’m here, Beau,” Yasha said.

Beau walked closer, leaving several feet in between them. She did not speak but stood straight in the sideways rain, bringing her hands down at her sides and curling them into fists. The wind fell and then picked up again, tossing the leaves in the trees. Then, Beau said: “I guess you heard what I said to Fjord.”

“I did.”

“And what did you think about it?”

“Beauregard,” Yasha said. “I can’t.” She felt something well up inside her, something warm, something a little like nausea. “I can’t ... talk about this with you.”

“Please, Yasha. Just tell me what you’re feeling.” Beauregard did not move, and Yasha thought to herself that if she was a storm, Beau would be a cliff face towering over a thrashing ocean.

Beau took another step towards her.

The storm seemed to lose energy then, the rain falling straighter, the wind slowing, the raindrops shrinking. Yasha willed it to pick back up, craving the feeling of an uncontrollable and chaotic storm, one that would thrash against her, one that she could push back against.

Beau reached out and took Yasha’s hand with a sudden and determined movement.

Fighting twin urges to both lean in and step back, Yasha closed her eyes tight.

Without the biting pain of heavy rain against her body, her thoughts raged within her once more, spilling from her head to her heart.  _Coward_ , she thought, _fool_. Without the storm, she felt abandoned. Alone. 

Beau tightened her grip on Yasha’s hand.

Yasha opened her eyes and looked into Beau’s face. Her deep brown hair, now black in the night, had begun to come loose from the ribbon that held it together. Yasha was aware her heart was racing.

Yasha bit her lip and reached up with her free hand. “Let me see your eyes,” she said, taking the goggles off of Beau’s face. Beau straightened them on her forehead and smoothed her wet hair behind her ear.

Beauregard blinked. Yasha’s face softened. Taking a deep breath, she ran her thumb along the edge of Beau’s jaw and leaned forward, tipping Beau’s face up a little as she pressed her lips to Beau’s, closing her eyes and inhaling through her nose. Beau made a small, uncontrollable _mmmm_ sound as she leaned into the kiss.

Yasha pulled back and felt it was hard to breathe, her chest heaving as she tried to fill her lungs with air. Beau’s eyes were wide, her mouth open, her face searching.

“You said you’d wait for me,” Yasha said.

Beau nodded. The rain stayed gentle, dripping off of the leaves on the trees that stood behind them. 

“I need more time.”

Beau didn’t respond, her eyes still flicking back and forth. Her gaze settled on the ground, her brows narrowing as she turned her face away from Yasha.

Yasha felt heat behind her eyes, felt the familiar feeling of tears welling. She felt so many emotions that she could not name, but knew for certain that nothing that felt this _right_ could be wrong. A voice lingered in the back of her mind, the one who told her _cowardbetrayerfool_ , sticking into her thoughts like a deeply embedded thorn. “Please, Beau,” Yasha said, “ _please_. Give me more time.”

“Okay,” said Beau. She looked back up, meeting Yasha’s gaze. “Okay.”

The corner of Yasha’s mouth twitched up, and she blinked, and those tears that she had refused to let fall finally fell, mingling with the rain that shone on her skin. For a few seconds, the two women stared at each other, their hands still entangled, their breath still shallow.

Beau blinked and looked away. She took her hand from Yasha’s and motioned towards the camp with her chin as she pulled her goggles back down over her eyes. “We should get back.”

Yasha nodded, flexing her fingers, feeling the ghost-like memory of Beau’s palm. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr @ halforcpaladin :~)


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